


Ɇ

by ImBlackKitten



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Armin is a smart cookie, Canon Era, Character Death, Death, Fluff and Angst, Gay Bashing, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Minor Character Death, Modern Era, Reincarnation, Self-Harm, Teacher-Student Relationship, but also underage in canon-compliant era, underage but not really because reincarnation makes everything weird
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:14:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27845071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImBlackKitten/pseuds/ImBlackKitten
Summary: Eren has been reincarnated in the modern world and wants to find his boyfriend, Levi. He finds Armin, Mikasa, Jean, and other members of the 104, but not everyone remembers what happened two thousand years ago. When and how will the pair be reunited, and will Levi even remember the years they spent together?Or, a bunch of cohesive one shots set in the same universe in (mostly) chronological order.
Relationships: Levi/Eren Yeager
Comments: 29
Kudos: 71





	1. »1 EREN« Stop touching my butt

**Author's Note:**

> I take a few liberties with what happens in canon-verse with this fic. I find it hard to believe that they'd speak the same language then as they do now, and since we never get told what the language they speak is called (as far as I'm aware), so I'm going to call it Eldian. To signify when someone is speaking in Eldian, I'm going to use italics and »« instead of quotation marks. When they talk in canon-era, I don't use italics because everyone would speak that way, but I still use the carrots.

My parents were very concerned. I started walking when I was only eight months old, and by the time I was three I’d been caught doing pushups and situps in my crib eight times. Also, I woke up screaming in an unrecognizable language almost every night. My parents took me to a few doctors, and none of them could agree on what was wrong with me. They ultimately decided I suffered from night terrors.

My waking hours were filled with me trying to build my muscle mass enough so that I could move the way I wanted to, and my parents chasing after me trying to get me to stop doing abdominal crunches. It’s not my fault I’m bored out of my ass as a baby. There’s only so many times you can hear people say “isn’t he darling?” and “goochy-goochy-goo” before you start aiming your projectile vomit at them. 

I should explain. I’m not some genius super human, that’s more like Armin, I was born with a lifetime of memories from two thousand years ago, give or take a century. I was born in the world of smartphones and grocery stores with memories of a life during the Titan War, a period of time that history only vaguely remembers. I remember it like it was yesterday, simply because it was yesterday for me. I felt my life slipping away and then I’m in a bright white room screaming my head off. I was tiny again and naked. Strange people were touching me in places I didn’t want to be touched, and holy fuck was that a needle?

They put me on a table where an old woman was insistent on measuring every part of my body. I wanted her to stop touching my butt. I know it’s soft, but it’s an invasion of my personal space. It felt so weird being in a baby's body. I couldn’t move my arms the way I wanted to, it’s like I had to relearn how my body worked.

I couldn’t understand what anybody was saying. Whatever language they were speaking wasn’t anything I recognized, so I couldn’t figure out where I was, and why everything was shiny and why there was so much light. There was an unbelievable amount of light everywhere, where was it all coming from? Electricity was still a modern invention last I knew, so why was it everywhere? 

I quickly learned that society was nothing like how I remembered it, I would have to learn a new language and how to fit into this strange and very brightly lit world. 

. . . . . 

When I was a little over a year old, my parents gave me access to crayons and paper. I’d draw my friends from the past and scenes that I remembered. My house in Shiganshina, the walls, the training grounds for the 104th, the good parts of the past I didn’t want to forget. Most of all, I drew Levi. 

I wasn’t very good at drawing. In my past life, I didn’t have much access to art tools, and I never had the incentive to try drawing anything. I’m sure if I was as bored then as I was now, I’d have drawn the scouts in their green cloaks. My mom would’ve put those drawings on the ice-box after scolding me for wanting to join the Survey Corps. I missed my mom. Carla wasn’t my mother this time around, instead there was some woman named Selena who had long wavy brown hair and a fair complexion. Selena was nice to me, but she was nothing like Carla was. 

I tried to draw Carla sometimes, but it was hard to remember exactly what she looked like. My memories of my mom weren’t as fresh as my memories of Armin, or Mikasa, or Levi. 

I missed Levi more than I missed everyone else combined. I dreamed about him almost every night. His soft touch and the way he’d caress me in bed. How he held his teacup. I’d dream about how he fucked me on his desk that one day after I was making faces at him during a meeting. Those were the good dreams. More often than those, however, were the dreams when he’d die in my arms. When I’d remember how I failed to keep him safe and when he was more focused on watching my back that he didn’t watch his own. His last words still haunted me, it was the only time he ever said that he loved me. The first and the last time those words graced his lips. 

. . . . . 

Being a baby sucked. I couldn’t access any information on my past because everything was out of reach, and I couldn’t move. I had to learn a new language and pretend that Peppa Pig was the coolest thing since Kraft mac-n-cheese. I still haven’t figured out how the pictures move. Nobody would explain this to me. I’ve written and asked “how?” while aggressively pointing at the T.V., but all my parents do is laugh at that. 

“He’s so funny and cute,” They’d say, “he’s going to be a comedian some day.”

No thank you. My parents had no problem explaining other things to me, like how the oven works, and why it rains and snows. But by far, their favorite thing to explain to me was this thing called the Bible. It didn’t make much sense to me, and there was a good amount of magic involved and enough violence that I started to question why they were reading it to a child. Not that I minded, it was one of the more interesting things they told me about, but they explained the stories like they were fact. Considering the fact that nobody knew anything about this God when I was alive before and the fact that I was not in heaven nor hell, I was ready to call bogus on this whole Bible thing. I had a feeling that my parents wouldn’t like it if I ever voiced this opinion aloud, so maybe I’ll save my opinions on it. 

. . . . . 

Preschool was really boring, I realized that I caught onto language a lot faster than my classmates, but that was probably because I already knew how to think. The only good thing about getting shuttled to and from Mackerel Preschool was that the teachers let me do basically whatever I wanted as long as I wasn’t causing a ruckus or hurting anyone. This meant that I could practice Eldian, the language everyone spoke when I was first alive. I didn’t want to forget how to write or speak it because if I forgot it, how would I prove to myself that my memories were real? And, what if I forgot about Levi? 

If I was reincarnated, there was a chance Levi was too. I wanted nothing more than to find him in this world, but this world was much larger than just the world behind the wall. The chances of finding him were so slim, but I had already lived so long without him I wasn’t certain I could bear it if I had to live the rest of my life without him again. 

Levi wasn’t the only person I wanted to find. I missed Armin, and Mikasa, and even Jean, and Hanji, and Historia. Marco, even. I wanted to find Armin almost as badly as I wanted to find Levi, he would probably know more about why I was here and why I remembered everything. 

Mackerel Preschool had so many things in it. I remembered the schoolhouse that Grisha sent me to when I was young. There were about twenty neighborhood kids of varying ages all cramped into a room, and a single school teacher would do her best to teach us all at the appropriate level. Mackerel was very different. Everyone was sorted off by age, not skill, which seemed a little strange to me. I was with fifteen children that were all four years old and there were typically three teachers in the room monitoring us. Mackerel seemed more like a daycare to me, but I wasn’t about to complain about it. 

Mrs. Levesque was always really nice to me. She had a curly mop of brown hair, and would always wear golden jewelry. She would watch me draw when the other kids were well behaved. 

“What are you drawing?” she asked me one day. 

“Levi,” I answered. 

“Who’s Levi?” she asked. 

“My boyfriend,” I answered. I’d heard other kids say similar things before, so I wasn’t too concerned with her freaking out.

“Oh? Is that so? Can you tell me about him?” 

“I guess,” I answered. I had to be careful when people spoke to me. I was supposed to be a chaotic and confused child, not someone that could articulate their thoughts, “he’s really pretty. He’s got silver eyes and a lot of muscles.” I hoped that sounded childish enough. I could go on and on about how amazing he was. 

“I like strong guys too, how did you meet?”

“In the past.” 

She didn’t question my answer. Maybe she got used to children saying strange things. 

“I’ve seen you draw him before. You’ve gotten really good at drawing. Do you practice at home?” She asked.

“Yeah. Mom has a lot of crayons for me, but she takes them away at night because she wants me to sleep. I don’t want to sleep, I want to draw.”

“Everyone needs to sleep, you know,” she lightly scolded me. 

“But that’s when the nightmares happen.” 

Every night I’d be plagued by my past. I’d see myself crawling out of my titan form, I’d see my comrades die, I’d see the bloody fields outside the walls. I couldn’t stand to see my life playing on repeat, all of my mistakes and regrets haunted me at night. I’d see Petra, Eld, Gunther, and Auro die for me. I’d watch Ymir betray us, and I’d see my dad injecting me with the titan serum. Worst of all of these was when I’d remember how Levi died. How I couldn’t save him. He pushed himself too far to try to protect me, but he was caught by an abnormal and was crushed before I could get to him. That wasn’t the worst part of it though, he didn’t die from being crushed, he died hours later on the empty battlefield with only me beside him. I’d never forget the way he looked at me in his dying moments, the fear in his eyes. He didn’t want to leave me alone in the world, not after finally confessing his love.

“Can you tell me about the nightmares?” Mrs. Levesque asked me. 

There were so many I could choose from, so I chose the one that sounded the most childish, “my mom is getting eaten by a titan. She’s trapped under a collapsed house and I can’t get her out. When help comes, he picks me up and runs away with me, leaving my mom to be eaten.” I didn’t mention that it was Carla, not Selena that was in the story. It was a nightmare I’d had hundreds of times before, in this life and my previous one. 

Levi and I were both plagued with nightly terrors. Sometimes I’d wake up screaming and he’d hold me and whisper sweet nothings into my ear until I fell back asleep. Sometimes he’d wake up in a cold sweat, kicking and punching at the sky. I’d hold him until he’d stop shaking. After he died, my nightmares got worse and worse. I’d become almost as much an insomniac as he was because I didn’t want my mind to revisit the past any more. 

“That sounds horrible,” Mrs. Levesque said, “have you told your parents about these dreams?”

“Yeah. They said they couldn’t make them stop.”

“Have you ever drawn your nightmares?” she asked me.

“No,” I answered. I wasn’t sure that I wanted to see even a shitty drawing of a titan. 

. . . . . 

My parents caught me speaking in Eldian once, they thought I was being possessed by some spirit and called a guy to pour water on me and recite something from the Bible. He reminded me of Pastor Nick with his long robes. 

“There’s nothing wrong with me, mom,” I tried to argue. 

“You were chanting in some demonic language, Eren,” my mom argued. 

“We both heard you,” my dad said. 

“It would make us feel safer if this man performed an exorcism,” she explained. 

“What’s an exorcism?” I asked. 

“A priest is going to remove the evil spirits that reside in you, son,” my dad explained. 

“Everything’s going to be okay, sweetie,” my mom consoled me. 

“That sounds scary,” I told them, fear making my voice waver, “and painful.” 

“He’s just going to recite a few lines from the Bible and pour some holy water on you, he’ll expel the demons that are growing in you.”

None of that made any sense. I was hoping that this would be a mildly interesting event that I could tell my friends about when I found them, but it turned out to be really boring. 

. . . . . 

“You draw this Levi guy a lot,” Mrs. Levesque said to me one day.

“Yeah.” I didn’t know how to respond to that. 

“Who are the other people you draw?” she gestured to a drawing of Armin. I had tried to remember what he looked like when he was a kid, still unmarred from the horrors of reality. 

“That’s Armin, he’s my best friend,” I explained. 

“Is he in another class here?”

“No, I haven’t met him yet.”

“Huh, that’s interesting,” she stood from her chair, “I’m going to check in on the other kids, so behave yourself.”

“Yes, Mrs. L,” I answered. It was almost the end of the day, so I wasn’t too bothered by being left alone. I preferred it, actually; I didn’t have to think about what I should or shouldn’t say because I was stuck in this stupid childish body. 

“I’m concerned about your son, Mrs. Yӓger,” I overheard Mrs. Levesque say.

“What about him?” my mom asked. I strained my ears to listen to their conversation.

“He keeps drawing the same people, Levi, Armin, and Mikasa mostly. Sometimes he’ll draw Armin or Mikasa as a kid, but most of the time he’s drawing these teenagers or adults. Levi looks to be about twenty-five or so. Your son is an incredibly talented artist,” my teacher said. 

“He is, but I don’t understand your concern. I know he draws a lot, and I’m hoping that this will just be a phase, I can’t have an artistic son. Hopefully he’ll try soccer or something when he starts grade school, but I don’t see why you’re bringing this up,” my mom explained. 

My teacher blinked a few times and shook her head, “Um, no actually, that wasn’t it at all. I brought this up because Eren keeps going on about how Levi is his boyfriend and that he misses him, and all these people he draws look so old. I was concerned that someone might be taking advantage of him.”

“Boy-” my mom scoffed, “boyfriend? I’ll have to talk to his dad about this. I’ve heard those names before. Levi, Armin, Mikasa, as far as I know he’s never met anyone called by any of those names. He wakes up in the middle of the night screaming for them, and we can’t make rhyme or reason of it.” 

“Have you considered therapy?” Mrs. Levesque asked. 

“For what? His nightmares? He’s just a troubled kid, there’s nothing mentally wrong with him,” my mom explained. 

“You’re right, of course,” my teacher quickly said, “he just seems so sad sometimes, and nothing I do is able to change that.”

“Then maybe you’re not a very good teacher, Mrs. Levesque,” my mother said in a condescending tone, “there’s nothing wrong with my child.”

“I wasn’t trying to imply otherwise, Mrs. Yӓger.”

“Eren,” my mom raised her voice to get my attention, “Let’s go home.”

“Yes, mom,” I responded. 

. . . . . 

My parents sent me to bed right after we’d finished dinner. Usually they let me draw or read for a while before they forced me into my crib (I was far too big for it now), but not tonight. 

“He’s straying from the path of God, Charles,” I heard my mom say. I was spying on them through the slit underneath the door. My parents were really bad at talking quietly, so it didn’t take much effort to overhear their conversation. 

“He’s four, dear,” my dad answered. 

“He thinks he’s dating his imaginary friend, who’s a boy.”

“I had imaginary friends when I was young too.”

“That’s not the issue and you know it, Charles.”

“I know, but he’s just a kid, he probably doesn’t even understand what he’s saying,” my dad tried to explain. 

“Which is why we should correct him before this turns into an issue. You know what the Graces’ next door would say if they found out our son had…” she whispered the last part, “artistic tendencies.” 

“Love, you’re overthinking this, our son isn’t gay. He probably just thinks that boyfriend means best friend.”

“Even so, we should talk to him about this.”

“Yes, dear.”

Huh. Even if I managed to find Levi in this world, it seems like people won’t accept our relationship because we’re both males. This was never an issue in the past, same sex couples were as common as any other type of relationship in the past. It was a normal and accepted part of the world. My relationship with Levi was kept secret because of our standing in the military, it was incredibly unprofessional to be sexually involved with your senior officer, even more so in my case because Levi was supposed to kill me if I ever messed up. 

I suppose my relationship with Levi might never be truly accepted, but I didn’t care what others thought as long as I could be with him. We fought side by side, trusting each other with our lives; I was never going to be able to have that type of relationship with anyone else. 

. . . . . 

“Eren, dear,” my mother said to me the next morning.

“Yes, mum?” I asked, cocking my head.

“Your teacher, Mrs. Levesque said something to me the other day that was rather concerning.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, feigning naïvety. 

“There’s this man you draw, Levi. Have you met him before?” she asked me.

“Not yet,” I answered.

My mom paused at that, “Well. I’m concerned about how you talk about him. Your teacher says you call him your boyfriend, but I think you might be confused.”

“I’m not confused, mom. He’s my boyfriend.”

“No, no. He’s a friend that’s a boy, that’s your best friend. Levi is your best friend,” my mom told me. 

“I’m confused, what are you saying?” I asked.

“Well, when you say boyfriend it sounds like you’re dating, which is silly. Boys don’t date other boys,” she shivered at that.

“Why not?” I asked. 

“Because it’s not right. If God wanted you to date boys he’d make it pleasurable and make it so that you could have children. It’s just not right for two men to be together, do you understand that?” She held my hands as she said that.

I was a little confused about that. My time with Levi was the best time of my life, the most pleasurable in all ways. Maybe people had forgotten about the prostate in this time period. 

“I understand,” I answered.


	2. »2 EREN« Does she try to make our ears bleed?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I said this before, but whenever they're speaking in Eldian, I've used arrow brackets instead of quotation marks. AO3 apparently doesn't like it when I try to use italics, so you just have to pay attention to the marks. 
> 
> Also, this is a bunch of semi-cohesive one shots that take place in the same world, so there are a lot of choppy bits here and there because it's in chronological order.

It was the first day of kindergarten. I’d yet to meet anyone from my past life, but I didn’t have much opportunity to roam around and explore the world looking for people that may or may not exist. Hopefully going to school would expose me to more people and I might find someone I know. 

I took my blue and white backpack and hopped into the car. Blue and white because I wanted everything to be related to my past life somehow. My metaphorical wings of freedom were strapped to my back on what my parents called this ‘commemorative day’, which is why they were taking photos. 

“Are you excited about your first day of school, Eren?” My mom asked me after another flash of the camera. 

“Yeah, I can’t wait to meet my friends,” I answered, trying to smile for her. 

“You can’t wait to make friends,” my dad corrected me. 

“Meet them. I’m already friends with people, I just need to find them again.”

“I guess that’s one was to see it,” my mom said, putting the camera back into its case. 

“Let’s get into the car, we don’t want to be late on your first day,” my dad said, opening the back door for me. 

The car ride was mostly silent, but I didn’t mind that. I didn’t care much for my parents this time around. Granted, they were better than my Dad was back then, but nobody could replace Carla. I didn’t appreciate her enough when I had her, and that should’ve been a lesson to me that I should care about my parents more this time around, but they weren’t nearly as good as Carla was. They were too caught up in their own American dream life with a white picket fence that they didn’t see any of the problems in the world like I did. If Mikasa was here with me, she’d say that I haven’t changed at all. 

The school was one of the biggest buildings I’d ever seen. I was told that the middle and high school were bigger, but it still boggles my mind that houses and stores (and schools apparently) could be built so big. The schoolhouse I went to a few days a week in Shiganshina had only a few rooms, this place was almost as big as the palace. The double doors were held open by teachers and other adults. Children were being directed into lines in various places in the gymnasium. 

I turned my head round and round looking for anyone that I might find familiar- notably Levi. Blondes, redheads, and brunettes filled my eyes, but nobody I could recognize. I didn’t know many people when they were this young, so it would be hard to recognize anyone even if they were here. Black hair was rare here, and after doing a quick scan and finding only three kids- none of which looked anything like Levi, I scanned the room for other people.

One short boy with shoulder length blonde hair caught my eye. I couldn’t see his face, but he had the same stance and figure Armin had, albeit he looked a little more built. If it was him, maybe he’d been working out while bored like I did, or for the sake of familiarity. He turned, and his round face and bright blue eyes lit up like the sun.

“Armin?” I yelled, running towards the small blonde boy. 

»Eren?« he dropped his book bag and ran into my arms, »I can’t believe you’re alive. I’m not crazy after all,« he whispered to me. His hands were placed on either side of my face in a loving gesture.

»Armin, crazy? Never. I’m so glad we found each other again,« I responded, tears filling my eyes. I tilted my head to lean into his palm that rested on my cheek. 

“Eren! Don’t run off like that,” I could hear my mom shout in the distance. 

“Eren?” A woman, presumably Armin’s mom asked.

“Yes, Eren Yӓger. Sorry, did I hear that your son’s name was Armin?” my Mom asked her, “How rude of me, I’m Selena Yӓger.”

“Pleasure to meet you, I’m Clarisse Arlert,” she looked at the man standing next to her and frowned. Looking back at my mom, she asked, “you wouldn’t happen to know a Mikasa Ackerman, would you?”

“This must be the Devil’s work,” my mom stated, “Eren has nightmares and wakes up crying out names sometimes. Levi, Mikasa, and Armin mostly.”

“And Jean, Annie, Erwin,” Armin’s mom finished. 

“This cannot be a coincidence, we should talk more about this over coffee sometime. Here’s my number. Clarrise, right?” My dad said, handing her his business card. 

Armin and I stared at each other in shock. This was most definitely problematic. 

»We should talk about this too,« Armin told me. 

»Agreed.« Nobody noticed we weren’t speaking English. 

The two of us were shuffled around the gymnasium until we were placed under the care of Mrs. Juniper. She had crazy red hair that curled about her head in flaming coils and sharp eyebrows that contrasted her soft face. She seemed like a nice lady, asking us all how we were feeling and what our names were, but she had this fire-like personality that I could see easily exploding if we ever ensued her wrath. 

“This should be your entire class, Juniper,” an old woman with a large wart on her nose told Mrs. J.

“Thank you, Dahlia,” Mrs. Juniper replied, “I’m sure we’ll all have a wonderful day getting to know each other, right class?”

“Yes, Mrs. J,” the class answered. 

“Lovely. Now, I want you all to form a line and hold the hands of the person in front of you and the person behind you, that way we won’t get lost,” she said in a cheerful voice. Everything she said sounded happy and cheery, this was going to get really bothersome quite quickly. 

»Do you think she’s naturally that cheerful, or does she try to make our ears bleed?« I asked Armin. 

»Eren,« he scolded, »don’t be rude.«

»It’s not like she can understand us,« I argued.

»But it’s the thought that counts,« he told me. 

»Isn’t that phrase used to say you’re doing a good thing?« I asked him, confused. 

»Fuck, you’re right. I’ve been trying to get a hang of English idioms, but they’re so strange,« he told me. 

»It’s not like Eldian is any better,« I said.

“This is our classroom, 5-A,” Mrs. Juniper told us, “We’ll be spending the rest of the school year here learning all we can so that you’ll be ready for the next grade.”

»This sounds dreadfully boring,« I whispered to Armin.

»Don’t knock it till you try it?« he asked hesitantly.

“Do you two have something to share with the class?” Mrs. J looked at me and Ar. 

“No, Mrs. J,” I answered, raising my voice so she could hear it. It felt so strange responding to an authority figure without saluting.

. . . . . 

School became increasingly boring as time passed. I drew more and more, much to my parents' discomfort. They provided the bare minimum for me to doodle away with crayons on printer paper. Apparently, being too artistic was an early sign of mental perversion in adulthood for males. 

“You’re getting really good at that, Eren,” Armin told me one day after school. 

It had become a habit that our parents would trade off days to watch over the pair of us. Mondays and Wednesdays we’d spend the afternoon with my parents watching us like hawks, and Tuesdays and Thursdays we’d be in the comfort of Armin's home. Today was Friday, which meant we were at my parents house as they prepared dinner for us and Armin’s parents. Our moms got along fabulously, chatting over tea whenever they got the chance and having a weekly dinner with each other. They went to the same church, but Armin's parents didn’t really believe in any of it, they used church as an excuse to be more social. 

“Thanks, Ar,” I responded. I was drawing Levi hiding behind his teacup. I remembered that moment vividly. It was the first time I said I’d like to bend him over his desk and fuck him until the rooster crows. His face flushed pink and he tried to hide it behind his teacup, but I could still see the pink on his cheeks. 

»It looks almost exactly like him,« he said. 

»That’s the point, Ar,« I joked. It hurt to be without him for so long. Having Armin with me lessened the pain, but I couldn’t escape the loneliness I felt every night when I went to bed without Levi by my side.

»Do you think we’ll find them?« he asked. 

»We will,« I answered, »because life isn’t worth living without him.«

»Eren, you’re not alone in this,« Armin’s large blue orbs widened in sadness. 

»You don’t know what it’s like to be without your other half like this,« a small tear fell onto my drawing, making a small blotch on the paper.

»Not like you, but I know that my life without you was the hardest it’s ever been. This time, and last time,« he answered.

I looked up from my drawing, »I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what it was like after… « After everyone died. 

»I lived,« he said, »for some godforsaken reason, I lived, and I made the best of it. I didn’t go back to the walls, I couldn’t face the rest of the world knowing that we’d all but lost.«

»But you didn’t lose,« I answered, »you, Armin Arlert, some nobody from Shiganshina survived, and you changed the world. You made today happen.«

»And look what it got me: a life of pain, and nobody even knows my name.« 

»We don’t know that for sure. The school library is really small, and if there are records from back then, I can’t imagine anyone would make that information accessible to children,« I argued.

“You could be an artist one day,” Armin said, changing the subject. I didn’t blame him, as comforting as it was to have someone that understood, bringing up the pains of the past hurt us both.

“Fat chance of that,” I answered. 

“I mean it, you’re already drawing really life-like pictures, just imagine what you could do with some training and the proper tools.”

“My parents would never let me be an artist. It’s not,” I put on air quotes, “manly enough.”

»These people are so prideful and stuck in their ways,« Armin shook his head.

»Kind of like us,« I grinned.

»At least I can admit when I’m wrong,« Armin argued.

»Yeah, like that time you thought Jean and Historia were getting it on.«

»They were always gone at the same time, it was a realistic guess.«

»So were Marco and Ymir, but you didn’t notice they were gone!«

»I don’t want to talk about this anymore.«

“Is that a sore topic, Ar?” I asked him innocently.

“Yes, now we’re moving on.”

. . . . . 

“I asked my mom if I could sign up for martial arts,” Armin told me during lunch.

“Why? You don’t need to learn how to defend yourself,” I reasoned.

“I’m getting antsy sitting around all day. As much as I hated drills, I miss my muscles. And I figure if other people remember, they might do a similar thing.”

“When was the last time I called you a genius?” I asked him.

“This morning when I explained the difference between the three ‘theys’,” he answered.

“I don’t say it enough then, you’re a genius.”

“Thanks, but it’ll only work if my mom lets me join the local MMA dojo. She’s worried that her meek little boy might get hurt. I know I look like a twink, but I can hold my own.”

“Yeah, but you’re still nothing against me,” I argued. 

“That’s it,” he snapped his fingers and pointed at me, “your parents would love it if you did something manly like beating people up. If you join, I can guilt my mom into letting me join.”

“I thought we weren’t supposed to draw attention to ourselves. You know better than anyone that I don’t hold back, and that’s going to be a problem.”

“Maybe they can teach you how to pull your punches, that’s a good skill to have, Eren.”

“I suppose it’s worth a shot,” I answered. 

. . . . . 

My parents were delighted that I had an interest in something more suitable for a little boy. 

“Doesn’t he look darling in his gi?” my mom asked.

“Like a proper young man now that we’ve cut his hair,” my dad answered. They had cut my hair against my wishes. I wanted to grow it out similar to how I had it last life. Armin had cut his hair at the start of third grade so that it was shorter in the back, but he still had his childish bangs in the front. It was a nice combination of the two hairstyles he had back then. 

“Moooooom,” I complained, crossing my arms, “you’re embarrassing me.”

“Just one more photo, then I’ll be done,” she promised.

“Class is about to start, you have enough photos,” I told her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, let me know what you think. I absolutely love reading your comments.


	3. »3 EREN« Like a horse in the stable

“This is going to be horrible,” I told Armin as we entered the bus. Our class was taking a field trip to a history museum. The content was mostly about prehistoric creatures and cultures, but it also included early societies up to the year one thousand or so. There weren’t many artifacts that had survived for that long, but apparently, there was enough to have a museum dedicated to old pots and such. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Eren, this is going to be amazing. We know more than the curator about the Titan War. The hardest part is going to be trying not to laugh when he says something wrong,” Armin explained. 

“That’s why it’s going to be terrible. They’re butchering our history, it’s like our lives and sacrifices didn’t matter at all.”

“It won’t be that bad, Eren.”

I pouted. For argument's sake, I hoped that Armin was wrong, but I could do with a good laugh right about now.

“Do you think the curator would recognize Eldian by the sound?” Armin asked me. 

“Maybe, do you want to find out?« I grinned.

»Yes, you know I’d love to play with someone’s mind like that« Armin said with a devilish smirk. 

. . . . . 

It turns out, the curator did not recognize Eldian because nobody has been able to decipher the language. Nobody could read the runes, and nobody knew what the language sounded like. 

“How did people manage to kill the titans?” I asked the curator, Dr. F. Chase.

“They used swords, we have some on display here in the next room if you’d like to see,” he answered. 

“Yes please,” Armin answered for me, “but how did people kill the titans with swords? Aren’t they supposed to be really big?”

“Well, yes. People would throw a sort of kusari, that’s a hook on the end of a chain, to attach to the beast and would climb up it so they could attack the nape,” Dr. Chase explained. 

I raised an eyebrow at Armin. He shrugged in response. 

“All of the information we have on the Titan War is in this room,” he gestured to the space, “please let me know if you two have any more questions. I’d be glad to answer them to the best of my ability.”

“Thank you,” Armin told him. 

»Imagine if we had to climb up the titans like that,« I joked.

»That would’ve been horrible, it was hard enough with the 3DMG.«

“I suppose this is a blast to the past of sorts,” I said, looking around the room. There was a blade in one of the cases, and a military issue shotgun in another. A few documents were around the room along with many drawings.

“There’s hardly anything here,” Armin told me. 

“I know, it’s kind of sad, really,” I walked over to the blade to read the description while Armin meandered around the room. 

‘This blade was used by the Survey Police to fight the giant humanoid creatures known as Titans. Titans ranged from three to fifty meters tall, and their food source was humans. The Survey Police were tasked with eradicating the titans so that humanity would be freed from this horror.

‘The blades were about 88 cm and made out of hardened steel. This allowed the blades to be flexible whilst staying strong enough to cut flesh.’

“Our lives are summed up by a small room of junk,” Armin said, “wait a minute. Eren, what’s this?” he pointed to a piece of paper.

I walked over to take a look. It was a report done by Hanji. I started reading the ancient text and my face went pale only one line in. 

“Fuck,” I said. 

“Eren, what is this?” he asked me.

“I was hoping this secret would stay buried,” I explained. 

“Well, it’s not and now I need an explanation.”

“Um,” I hesitated, trying to figure out the best way to word this, “One time when Levi and I were getting hot and heavy, this was when we were doing hardening experiments, I, um, transformed.”

“So you were making out with Levi and you suddenly just turned into a titan?” 

“Yup,” I said, trying to keep my face straight. 

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” he guessed. 

“Nope. That’s it. Hanji heard the bang, and had to write a, um, interesting report for Erwin.”

. . . . . 

»Levi,« I begged, grinding our crotches together, »Please, I need you. There’s nobody around.«

»Are you such a slut that you can’t even wait until we get back to a bed? You want to be fucked like a horse in the stable here?« he asked, his deep voice enchanting me, pulling me closer to him. 

»Please, Levi,« I took his lips with mine and nibbled on them as my hands caressed and fondled his abs. He was so muscular, and I loved it. As much as Levi would hate it, I could do the laundry on his chest with how firm and chiseled his abs were.

Levi rutted into me, and I could feel his length grow in his pants with each thrust against my own member.

»Take me, Levi. I want you to fuck me so hard I won’t be able to walk back.«

»You’re so greedy, you little brat,« Levi said as he spun me around so that I was now bent over a short fence with my ass in the air.

I moaned, »Yes, Levi, yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, please fuck me, sir.« I wiggled my ass in the air. 

He pulled my pants down and told me, »look at what you’re making me do, fuck you in the stable in front of Frost. You should be ashamed.«

My dick pulsated at that and precum oozed out of the tip, »Oh fuck, keep talking to me, Lee.«

»I thought I told you,« he spanked my ass hard and I moaned, »to call me Corporeal or sir, did you forget?«

So that’s how it was going to be today, »No,«

He spanked me again, »No, sir. Honestly, you’re a terrible soldier. You have no respect for your commanding officer. What do you think I should do about that?«

»Punish me,« I mewled. My dick was throbbing with lust, and Levi was teasing me instead of helping me with it.

»Such a good dog,« Levi spanked me, »hold your cheeks wide for me.«

My face flushed an even brighter shade of red than it already was, »Yes, sir.« My hands trembled as I reached back and spread my ass apart for him, »Like this, Corporal?«

»Good boy, Eren.«

I looked back and saw Levi stroking his cock with his hand. His lips were still glistening with our saliva, and his chest was rising and falling faster than normal, indicating his lust through his heavy breathing. His hair was still disheveled from earlier when I’d been playing with it, trying to convince him to fuck me.

»Did I say you could turn around?« Levi demanded. 

»No, sir.«

»So why did you do it?«

»Because I wanted to see you, Levi.«

He hit me in the ass again. »What did you call me?«

»Corporal!« I answered.

»That’s what I thought,« he stepped forward and rutted his length on my ass.

I moaned as he teased my hole, and wiggled my ass against him.

»Please use me for your pleasure, sir,« I begged.

»When was the last time you prepped?« he asked me.

»This morning, I’ll be fine,« I answered.

»Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.«

»I’ll be in more pain if you don’t fuck me right now, Levi.«

He aligned himself with my ass, and before he could push in, I forced myself backwards onto him. I could feel my ass clench and stretch around his member. I was not as prepared as I thought I was, but I wouldn’t let Levi know that. I liked the pain, and my ass healed quick enough, even though a little steam came out of it when it did.

»Holy shit, Yӓger. You are not prepared at all.«

»I don’t care, I’ll heal. I want you, Levi.«

He started to pull out of me, but I wouldn’t have any of that. 

»It doesn’t hurt, just fuck me please,« I pushed back into him, taking his length into me.

»If you start bleeding later I’m going to laugh at you,« he told me, thrusting deeper into me.

»If I start bleeding you’re allowed to laugh at me,« I moaned as his dick prodded at my insides. 

»You’re such a fucking masochist, it’s going to get you killed one day.«

»I wouldn’t mind dying if you were the one to kill me.«

»Crazy brat.«

His thrusts got faster and faster, and I met each one with vigor, »fuck, Levi, I’m so close«

»Me too, you’re so tight,« he panted. 

I moaned loudly, but cut it off by biting my lip. We were in the stables outside, but who knew who might be close enough to hear me shouting.

»Careful,« Levi said in between pants and moans, »can’t be too loud.«

I didn’t answer, afraid that if I opened my mouth I’d scream. He thrust hard into my prostate and I bit my lip hard to stifle my moan. I tasted blood in my mouth, but I didn’t have any time to think about it before a loud crack filled the barn and Levi jumped away from me as a flash illuminated the stable.

»Fuck!« Levi shouted, pulling his pants back up as I fell backwards onto my ass. My now enlarged ass. 

»What the fuck, Eren?« Levi shouted at me, now approaching me through the steam. 

»Sorry, Corporal. I don’t know what happened.«

I heard a scratch from outside the barn. 

»No,« Levi said, face going pale, »detransform, now.«

»Gimme a minute, I don’t even know how I did this.«

»Do you want shitty glasses to see this?« he asked.

»No, but it’s not like I have much of a choice. What are we going to tell them?«

»That you’re an idiot and was jacking off in the stable. I went looking for you, and you jumped when I announced myself, you cut yourself accidently and transformed because of that.«

»I hate you sometimes.«

»No you don’t,« he answered.

I glared at him.

»When this is over, I’m going to laugh at you like I promised.«

. . . . . 

“Hanji walked into the barn and the only part of me that hand transformed was my ass,” I explained.

Armin covered his mouth, trying not to laugh, “why did you never tell me about this?”

“Because it’s embarrassing,” I told him. 

“It happened two thousand years ago,” he answered.

“It’s still embarrassing.”

“So this is the report Hanji wrote?” he asked.

“Yup. Levi had to read it to make sure it didn’t sound like we were doing anything, but it made me sound like a dunce.”

“Is that why the Commander kept giving you weird looks?” Armin asked. 

“Yup,” I nodded my head.

“That makes a lot more sense, I thought he was jealous of you because he liked Levi.”

“That too, but he thought we were just close friends. He was a little angry that I kept cock-blocking his advances.” 

Armin laughed at that, “you’d think that if Erwin and Levi were going to get together, it would’ve happened long before they met you.”

“Erwin is almost as stubborn as I am, I wouldn’t be surprised if he would’ve tried to get with Levi even if we got married.”

“Kids?” one of the chaperones popped their head into the room, “we’re going to be leaving in five minutes. We’re supposed to gather by the coat room so the teachers can do a headcount.”

»How are we supposed to find others from our past if nobody remembers our past?« Armin asked me. 

»I don’t know, Ar.«


	4. »4 EREN« She’s too hot to be his girlfriend

When we were ten years old, Armin and I both received phones for Christmas. I guess our families were tired of us hogging the landline to speak gibberish to each other. We were both blown out of our minds with the concept of being able to talk to each other whenever and wherever we wanted. 

“I was thinking,” Armin said one day on our way to school, “you know how Facebook and Skype exist to get like-minded people together?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“Well, I was playing around on the computer last night, and I learned that I can create apps for your phone. That got me thinking that maybe I could make something like Skype, but in Eldian. It could also work like Wikipedia and store our knowledge of the Titan War and the people we’ve found and who remembers and who doesn’t. We could make a database of everyone from the past. You could draw people you remember, and I can write bios for them. It could be accessible online so that if there are others like us out there, they’d be able to find it, but strangers who stumble upon it would only see a bunch of symbols.” 

“That would be…” I paused, “that would be so much work, Ar.”

“But it might be our best bet on finding others who remember, and we could text in Eldian without trying to figure out how to use this alphabet to do so.”

“Let’s do it.”

. . . . . 

Making an app was a lot harder than either of us thought it would be. Armin had to learn PHP, Java, C++, and so much more. There was no easy way to make this, so while he learned to code and built the frame of it, I started designing the UI and making portraits of everyone I remembered. 

I bought a sketchbook for the sole purpose of drawing everyone I remembered. I started with the 104th top ten. Mikasa Ackerman, Reiner Braun, Bertholdt Hoover, Annie Leonhart, Jean Kirschtein, Marco Bodt, Conny Springer, Sasha Braus, Historia Reiss. Those were some of the people I wanted to see the most. Each portrait took me about thirty minutes each because I had to remember exactly how they looked. I’d draw them while in class and when I got home. Sometimes I’d sit next to Armin who was learning some coding language while I drew the faces of the people I’d let die. 

I couldn’t remember everyone on the 104th. I moved on from the cadets after drawing about thirty of them. There were other people I wanted to meet more than Mina or Flotch. I drew Hanji, Erwin, Moblit, and everyone else I met in the Survey Corps. 

I was sitting in history class one day drawing Petra when my notebook was taken out of my hands. 

“Hey, give it back,” I told Travis, who sat next to me.

“Who is this? Your girlfriend?” He teased. 

“She’s too hot to be his girlfriend,” Connor said, looking at the drawing.

“And old,” Travis said, “maybe she’s his nanny or something.”

“She’s someone I used to know, now give it back,” I told them.

“Is there a problem, boys?” the teacher, Mrs. Chase asked as she strode over to retrieve the book. 

“No, Mrs. Chase, we were just admiring Eren’s drawing abilities,” Connor answered politely. 

“Travis, don’t take people's things without asking. And Eren, you shouldn’t be drawing in class, no matter how good you are at it. I’m going to keep this until the end of the day.”

“But-”

“What do I say about buts?” Mrs. Chase asked.

“Butts belong on the chair,” I answered. 

. . . . . 

“Who are these people, Eren?” Mrs. Chase asked me when I went to retrieve my jotter. 

“Don’t you know it’s rude to look through an artist's notebook?” I asked her. 

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“You didn’t answer mine,” I replied with snark. 

“These people all have names attached to them, Jean Kirschtein, Mikasa and Levi Ackerman. They all look much older than you, do you know them?”

“No, they’re just random people I dream up.”

“Half of them have historical names of people from the Titan War.”

“Maybe because I was drawing them in history class and those names were at the forefront of my mind.”

“If there’s something bothering you, there are people you can talk to,” she told me.

“Thanks, but there’s nothing wrong. I just like to draw people.”

. . . . . 

By the time Armin figured out how to make the app, I’d drawn almost forty people. 

“I can write the code for this, but I need vector images of the letters and symbols,” Armin told me during lunch that day. 

“What does that mean?” I asked

“It means I need you to draw the letters on a computer in illustrator.”

“This is going to be complicated, isn’t it?”

“I think so.”

Armin, for some unknown reason, had photoshop and illustrator downloaded on his PC. We spent the afternoon at his house, and he showed me how to use the program. 

“You just need to click and drag to make curves, and you can go back and edit them later if you need to. Each letter needs to be saved as a separate file, upper and lower case, and each dialog tag too.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll start writing up some bios for the people you’ve drawn and as soon as you’re done with the letters we should have a semi-functional app.” 

The app was not functional at all. Not only was it hard to type in Eldian because I didn’t know where the keys were, half of the letters were incorrect and buttons didn’t go to the right page. 

“Fuck, let me fix that.”

The second iteration wasn’t much better. After many tears and hours of coding and drawing, we finally had a working version of the app. 

“There’s one thing we didn’t think about, Eren.” Armin said as he was about to publish the app to the app store. 

“What?”

“We need an icon for the app.”

“Make it an E, for Eldian.”

“It needs to be a picture, that’s your jurisdiction.”

“Hmm, okay.”

I quickly made an E in Illustrator, but it seemed too simple. I thought about what this app meant for us, the time we put into it was crazy, all for the slight chance that it would be used to connect us with others. It was like our efforts to do the impossible and kill titans back then. We had so much hope and so many dreams to do what seemed impossible. I cut the E in half and colored the left side blue and the right white, like the wings of freedom. 

“That’s perfect, Eren.”

. . . . . 

It had been nearly a year since Armin and I had created Ɇ, and the only person who had contacted us so far was a history professor from Harvard. He was studying the titan war, but we had quickly deduced that he was not reincarnated because he had no idea how to read Eldian and mentioned that there were four, not three walls. 

“It feels like we did all that work for nothing, Armin,” I told him one day in the park after school.

“That might be true…” he answered.

“That’s not making me feel any better.”

“You didn’t let me finish. We might not find anyone online through Ɇ, but we accomplished so much. What other ten years olds could’ve programmed a website from scratch and created the largest known historical database on the titan wars using only primary source information?”

“It’s not like we can prove it, Ar. Nobody would believe us if we told them about it.”

“I know, I’m just trying to stay positive about this. Even though we found each other, it still hurts so much,” Armin said, “you’re a lot stronger than I am.”

“I only pretended to be strong because I was scared shitless,” I admitted. 

“That’s what being strong is, Eren.”

“Maybe,” I answered, looking at the wooden chips below my feet, “Levi was always better at that, you know, being humanity's strongest.”

It had been almost eleven years, and I was still no closer to finding Levi than I was before.

“You know,” Armin started, “we’re both in the regional MMA tournament that’s coming up in a few weeks.”

“What about it?” I asked.

“We first joined because we thought that maybe people from our past would be interested in fighting again, maybe we’ll find someone there.”

“Why do you think we’ll find someone now when we’ve never found anyone before?” I asked. 

“Because these people will be the best of the best from a larger area. We’re good at it because we’ve fought before,” Armin paused, “I don’t want to give up hope that we’ll find someone. Who’s to say we’re not living some strange delusion and that none of this is real? Two is a coincidence, three is a fact.”

. . . . . 

I was walking down the hallways of the Survey Corps building. Commander Erwin lost his arm today, and it was all my fault. If I had beaten Reiner and Bertholdt or if I wasn’t captured, they wouldn’t have had to save me… again. 

It was late, I was supposed to be asleep in my cot, but I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened earlier. I knew Levi would still be awake right now, even though the rest of the Corps were asleep. He was still injured from his fight with Annie in the Forest of Giant Trees, so I couldn’t imagine him leaving his room right now. I knew I shouldn’t be out and about without his permission, but I figured since I was looking for him, he’d let it slide this once.

I knocked lightly on his chamber door, on the off chance he was asleep.

»Come in,« he said, before I finished the second knock.

I opened the door and saw him sitting on the couch with a book in his hand. I didn’t say anything, I couldn’t say anything.

Levi looked up from his book and his eyes widened, »Eren.« He put the book down and stood up, walking towards me. 

»What’s wrong?« he asked, raising a hand to my cheek and wiping away a tear I didn’t realize was there.

»It’s my fault, Lee,« my voice cracked as bile choked me. I could feel my throat closing and tears threatened to fall from my eyes.

Levi wrapped his arms around me, and I sobbed into his shoulder.

»What’s your fault?« he asked me.

»Everything,« I answered.

»It’s your fault that people get constipated?« he asked jokingly, »I might have to make a formal complaint for that.«

I smiled at that, »No, you know what I mean, Levi.«

»I don’t know unless you tell me.«

»Erwin,« I said, »It’s my fault he lost his arm, and that Hannes and so many others died today.«

»Eren,« Levi pulled back from where his head was nuzzled into my chest so he could look me in the eye, »none of that is your fault, they chose to fight for you, you didn’t force them to.«

»But they wouldn’t have had to if I had won against Reiner in the first place,« I turned my head away from him.

»Look at me, Eren,« he put his hand on my cheek and turned my head to meet his, »did you try your best? Did you fight with everything you had?«

»Yes, sir.«

»Then you have nothing to feel sorry or ashamed for. Yes, a lot of people died, and maybe things would’ve been different if you had won that fight, but who’s to say it wouldn’t have ended up even worse? You did everything you could, this is not your fault.«

I leaned into the palm of his hand and closed my eyes. This was why I loved Levi, he always knew the right thing to say, even if it came out wrong or was the hard truth that I wouldn’t like. He was honest with me, and I respected him so much for that. 

»Thank you, Levi.«

. . . . . 

I woke up from my dream while the sky was still dark. Of course, I’d always wake up before the best part of that day, the part that made all the pain worth it. I’d never forget how we laid on his bed after that conversation and simply held each other for hours, neither of us saying a word. I didn’t remember when I fell asleep, but I woke up in his arms the next morning. It was the first time I woke up embraced by him in such a loving way.

»I miss you.« I whispered to my room. 

My bed felt cold without him. After eleven years of waking up without him by my side, you’d think that I’d get used to it. Everything felt wrong without him. I couldn’t continue my simpleton life here like all was fine and dandy for much longer. My heart was ripped in two when I lost him in my previous life, and it had never been able to properly heal since then. 

I glanced out the window to try to determine if it was worth going back to sleep tonight. The smog and pollution made the stars so dim. I remembered being able to see every little glistening star in the sky before, but now they were hardly visible with the streetlamps illuminating my view. 

‘I have the tournament later today, I should at least try to get some sleep for it,’ I thought to myself. 

Surprisingly, I fell asleep easy enough, but my dreams kept my slumber from being restful. I dreamt of when I was first trying to turn into a titan, when I was unsure of how to approach Levi, and how I let everyone down day after day of being unsuccessful at mastering my transformations. In my dreams I bit down hard on my hand, but as soon as my skin broke I awoke to see my hand in my mouth and blood dribbling out of it. The rush of pain filled me with an energy I’d only experienced in my past life. It reminded me of how when I transformed, it was always for the sake of my friends, and that they were always with me. Levi was always with me when I transformed. I didn’t have to deal with my hands bleeding much back then because of my healing ability, but the blood kept flowing out of my hand and onto the sheets. 

I threw the blanket off of me and ran to the bathroom, trying to catch the falling blood in the palm of my nonbleeding hand. I rinsed the wound and poured some antiseptic on it. Modern medicine had progressed so much during the past two thousand years. I wrapped my hand in an ace bandage and hoped that my parents wouldn’t comment on it.

“You okay?” my mom asked as soon as I walked downstairs into the kitchen.

“What?” I asked, feigning innocence. 

“Your hand,” she gestured to it with a spatula. 

“Oh, I scratched it last night,” I answered.

“Is it going to get in the way of your fight?” my dad asked me.

“No, I’m probably going to remove it before then,” I answered, “I don’t think they’d let me fight if it looks like I have a broken hand.”

“Smart,” my dad answered.

“You’ll be okay though… right, Eren?” my mom asked.

“Yes, mum,” I grumbled, “I’ll be fine.”

The drive to the arena was boorish as usual. My dad preferred to drive mostly in silence, and my mom had her nose buried in some historical romance novel. Armin was sitting next to me in the car, but neither of us said anything. We didn’t want to prompt my father's wrath by disturbing his peace. Armin was content with reading a book, but I couldn’t ever focus on the words, and my phone didn’t have enough battery to last the ride there and back, so I was stuck with looking out the window. 

“You’re going to do great, honey,” my mom said before leaving me at the entrance to the locker rooms. 

“Thanks mom,” I answered before walking into the lockers. 

Armin was already inside changing, so I took a moment to look around the room and scan for familiar faces. Nothing, as usual.


	5. »5 EREN« You certainly haven’t changed

“He reminds me of Reiner,” I told Armin as one of our classmates entered the ring. So far, we hadn’t recognised anyone. 

“Reiner’s taller,” Armin said.

“We’re younger now.”

Armin didn’t respond. 

“Sometimes I wonder if it’s futile,” I said, “what if we made it all up? What if this is just some sick game of pretend that we’ve let take over our entire lives?”

“It’s not. We know it’s not just a game,” he argued, turning to look me in the eye, “how would you explain all the things we know that we shouldn’t?”

“Bedtime stories?” I couldn’t come up with an answer for him, “maybe we’re sick in the head.”

Armin grabbed my hands in what I suppose was supposed to be a comforting gesture, but as soon as his hands made contact with mine he jumped and forced my hand up towards his eyes.

“You’ve bitten yourself,” he said.

“Bad dream,” I explained.

He chuckled, “all the times I’ve seen you transform, and I’ve never seen you with this injury.”

“I’ve had it before. When I was first learning how to transform-” I was cut off by a loud buzzer signifying a victor in the match.

“Did it hurt?” Armin asked. 

“I don’t think so,” I hadn’t really thought about it much. It was more… satisfying, purifying than painful. It was like my pain and anguish was bleeding out through me, and I had felt better afterwards.

“I guess that’s a good thing, then,” Armin said.

“Eren,” Coach Hedge shouted at me, “you’re up next.”

I looked up at him, and he pointed to a girl from a neighboring town with a black pixie cut. She was faced away from me, so it was hard to identify her, “that’s your opponent.”

“Yes, sir,” I answered, falling into instinctual militaristic habit. 

“Sir?” he asked.

“Coach,” I corrected myself, “sorry.”

“Wouldn’t mind getting used to that,” he said jokingly. 

“I’ll try to remember.”

“This girl is the best in her dojo. She should be a few belts higher than she is, but he’s being held back by her hours. That’s why you’re her opponent, Yӓger. Give ‘er hell.”

The girl in question suddenly turned around, and my eyes widened. There was no mistaking those dark navy, almost grey eyes anywhere. Her cold, but loving glare and intimidating stance softened as her eyebrows peaked in interest.

“Armin,” I nudged his shoulder, “that’s…”

“Mikasa,” he whispered in awe. 

There was no mistaking the recognition in her gaze. She remembered us the same as we recognised her.

“Match’s over,” Hedge told me, “your turn now.”

“Got it,” I said, not straying my eyes from Mikasa.

“Don’t let a pretty face distract you” Hedge scolded me, noticing my fixation on the girl. 

“Never,” I answered, clambering over the rail. 

Mikasa walked towards the center of the ring to start the match. I could tell her mind was spinning circles around seeing me.

“Win this for Shiganshina,” Armin cheered for me.

“Got it, 15,” I shouted back. 

Mikasa’s eyes widened to the size of balloons. That’s what I liked about these names; to most people they were childish nicknames from some game, but for the people who knew… 

“Are you going to attack me?” Mikasa asked, “don’t be such a suicidal bastard.”

That was all the proof I needed to know that she remembered as much as I did. 

“I can only hope I’ll win.”

. . . . . 

After the match, Mikasa stood up from the ground and embraced me in a hug. My arms found their way into her hair and around her body. It was comforting to hug her again. I had a childhood this time around, but it didn’t feel right without her. Seconds passed and she didn’t let go of me.

“You need to let go so we can leave the arena,” I told her.

“I don’t want to let go of you ever again,” she said, “not after what happened last time.”

“I’m not going to run off this time, I promise you, Mikasa.”

She let go begrudgingly, and we climbed over the rail so we could meet up with Armin. 

“We should exchange numbers,” Mikasa said.

“We have something better than that,” Armin said as he threw his body onto her.

“We made an app,” I explained, “so we can text in Eldian.”

“It’s also a database of information from back then. It has all we remember about that time,” Armin elaborated.

“Say no more, how do I download it?” Mikasa asked.

. . . . . 

It was the first week of middle school. Travis and Connor were throwing a party while their parents were away on some business trip and had invited nearly the entire of the sixth grade. Mikasa lived in the next town over, and she was unfortunately busy tonight, so it was just us duo. My parents let me go to it on the condition that there would be no alcohol nor drugs and that I would be with Armin the entire time. To nobody’s surprise, my parents trusted Armin more than they trusted me. 

The party was boring. I’m sure it was a perfectly good and fun party, but I couldn’t get into the right mindset to properly enjoy it. Maybe it was because I was stone-cold sober. Modern laws were strange to me. Back in my previous life, we became adults when we were twelve. I joined military school, but I could’ve just as easily entered a profession, or done anything else with my life. I could’ve gotten married, or become a drunk if I wanted. 

I figured the best remedy to my confusion and despair was to have a few drinks, and no better way than to join in the game of never have I ever with some strangers. Armin and I joined a circle of people in one of the side rooms. They had a bottle of rum on a table surrounded by shot glasses.

“Never have I ever thrown up from alcohol,” some girl said. The redhead next to her drank, and so did a few others. 

“Never have I ever played hooky,” the guy on her left said. Everyone except Armin and I drank, “Damn, really? I feel kinda left out now.”

“Never have I ever…” the next guy started, “Uhm, I don’t know, been to court.” A small Latina girl made a show of taking her shot, while Armin and I quickly drank. Neither of us wanted to remember that event. 

“I had to go when I was adopted,” she said after putting the cup down, “it was really boring.”

“That’s cool, I guess. Never have I ever had a one night stand,” a girl said. Half of the people drank, including Armin. 

“What? You have to tell me about this, Ar,” I teased, playfully pushing him.

“Jean in 104th training,” he whispered in my ear.

“We’re talking more about this later,” I told him, “Never have I ever cheated on anyone.” Nobody drank. “That’s good, I guess.” I took a shot. 

One girl, clearly very drunk, stood up and nearly shouted, “never have I ever killed anyone.”

I looked Armin in the eyes, and he nodded. We both took a shot. 

“Bro, what the fuck?” The guy next to me shouted, “these two just drank!”

“Did you kill someone together? Who did you kill?” someone asked us. 

“Different people,” Armin said, “I, um,” he looked at me, “I was protecting a friend.”

“How did you do it?” the redhead asked. 

“I shot her,” Armin answered. She shuddered and looked to the ground. I hadn’t been there at the time it happened, but I remember him telling me about it later. Jean couldn’t pull the trigger, and Armin saved his life. Armin cried in my arms once the smoke had cleared and everyone was safe.

“What about you, hon?” the girl asked me. 

“I…” I couldn’t decide which time I should tell them about, “my sister was kidnapped. I knew that the police would take too long to get to her home in the mountains, so I hunted down the kidnappers. I stabbed one of them in the gut-”

“One of them?” a guy yelled, “There was more than one?”

“Yeah, the second I tied a knife to a broom and used it like a spear, and the third my sister killed.”

“How old were you?” the same girl from earlier asked us.

“I was eight.”

Nobody said anything.. The crowd stared at the two of us like we were headless fish out of water. 

“Let’s go, Ar,” I stood, turning away from the crowd. 

“Let’s agree to never talk about the past with anyone, even for a small joke,” Armin said as soon as we left the house. 

“Agreed.”

We only wanted to have a little fun, drown our sorrows in drink, but instead we relived our worst memories and terrorized a small group of teens.

. . . . . 

Armin and I were sipping coffee at the shop on fourth street waiting for Mikasa to arrive. We had a habit of getting coffee together here and chatting about nothing. She lived in the next town over, so we never got to see her at school. 

»Do you think Jean will try to ask her out?« I asked him.

»Do you think she’ll say yes? She had a lifetime to go out with him if she wanted to,« Armin answered. 

»Yeah, but now she’s had time to think about it more. Maybe she’ll accept his feelings.« 

»Like you’ve accepted hers,« Armin gave me a sly grin.

»You know that’s different. Besides the fact that I’m gay, she didn’t have anyone like I did.« 

»Do you ever wonder what it would be like if we didn’t remember? Connie and Sasha seem so happy with life,” Armin mused. 

“No. Even though there’s so much bad, I like remembering it because it brought me to you and Mika, and I have so many good memories of everyone.”

“Even if you never find him?” 

“Even then, it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all,” I told him.

“Now look who’s being the brainiac here. Gonna quote Shakespeare next?”

“Sure can, for love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind,” I held out my hand dramatically for his amusement.

Armin hit his head against the table and said, “the course of true love never did run smooth. We’re done. No more quotes.”

“No more what's?” Mikasa asked as she pulled a chair. 

“We’re quoting Shakespeare because we have nothing better to do with our miserable middle school lives,” I told her. 

“Yikes. That sounds painful, but guess who I found,” she exclaimed.

“Who? Do they remember?” Armin and I asked.

“No. Well, I don’t think so. Historia. She didn’t give any indication of recognizing me, and when I approached her she acted like a normal kid.”

“Damn. At least we know she exists,” I said.

“And if anyone deserves to live without memories of those horrors it’s her,” Armin added. 

An old woman from a few booths over stood up. She had grey hair with specks of dark brown which was pulled into a low ponytail. Her face was freckled, and she looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place her. 

»Ar, does that woman look familiar to you?« I asked in a hushed tone.

»Yeah, maybe she was a substitute?«

Huh. The woman looked at me, Armin, and Mikasa for a moment.

»She’s kind of creepy, don’t you think?« I said to the group.

»Don’t say that about people like that, maybe she’s just curious as to why there’s a group of kids here drinking coffee,« Mikasa chimed in. 

»It’s not like she can understand me, and drinking coffee isn’t that strange,« I told her.

»We’re eleven, Eren,« Armin said. 

The woman’s eyes lit up at that. She started walking towards us, and I had the sudden urge to run away. 

“You’re Eren,” She said looking at me, “which makes you two Armin and Mikasa.”

“What’s it to you?” Mikasa growled, moving to shield me from the woman.

“You certainly haven’t changed, Mika. Still trying to protect Eren like he’s going to die any second,” the woman said. 

“Who are you?” Armin asked.

“You mean you block-heads haven’t figured it out yet?”

She cocked her head and put a hand on her hip. 

“Ymir?” I asked, eyes blown wide, “But- but you’re.”

“Old?” she supplied.

“Everyone we’ve met has been the same age comparatively from back then, so why are you…” Armin asked.

“She is the same age, Ar,” I said, “she spent sixty years in her pure titan before she met us.”

“But that means,” Mikasa stopped.

“I’m seventy-one years old,” Ymir stated.

“Oh my gods. Did you… live a good second life, then?” Armin asked her.

“I hadn’t found anyone from back then until recently, and I was never able to get over Historia.”

“She’s eleven,” Mikasa said.

“I know, I saw her while walking in a park a few years ago. She doesn’t remember me, but in a way I’m glad. She’ll be able to live a happy life this time around. She won’t care about my death this time around,” Ymir took a deep breath. The corners of her eyes started to tear up. 

“I’m so sorry,” Armin told her, “You didn’t deserve this.”

“I have a favor to ask,” Ymir told us, “If she ever does remember, I want you to tell me. I want to meet her again if she ever remembers the past, our past.” 

“Okay,” I told her, “We’ll keep an eye on her for you.”

Ymir handed us a folded note, “That’s my number in case you need to contact me.”

“We actually have something better,” Armin told her. 

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Eren and I made an app that you can download on your phone. It’s like Facebook, you can talk to anyone we’ve found that remembers and it has a database of information from our previous lives,” Armin explained 

“You never ceased to amaze me,” Ymir said, handing us her phone, “I don’t understand technology very well. Can you put the app on my phone?”

“Sure thing,” Mikasa said. She punched a few buttons on the old Samsung, “it’ll take a minute for it to download. You can read Eldian, right?”

“I could never forget it,” Ymir verified.

“Good, because that’s the default setting,” Armin said.


	6. »6 EREN« Harder daddy

The start of middle school brought many new faces to the table. Because the town was so small, it included students from the next town over where Mikasa lived. 

Mikasa met up with Armin and I at the entrance of the building, wanting to experience this together. 

»Ready to get more education than we’ve ever had before?« Armin asked us.

»No,« I responded, frowning at the brick walls. 

»It’s a good opportunity,« Mikasa said, »in our last life we barely learned how to read and write, we’ve already learned that in this life, so I can’t imagine what else there is. It’ll be new and exciting.«

»Or we’ll be trapped in here being tortured from seven to two,« I argued.

“I’m fairly certain torturing children is illegal in this century,” Armin said, switching back to English. 

I grimaced at him, “it should be illegal in all centuries.” 

Armin looked around the courtyard and said, “we can’t procrastinate this any longer or we’ll be late. Let’s head in.”

The middle school was bigger than the elementary school, as was expected due to the increase in the number of students. The hallways were lined with lockers, and teachers were directing students to their homeroom classrooms to get the day started.

One teacher with curly brown hair and a strange eye-like necklace called out to us, “Do you know what class you’re in?”

We shook our heads in unison.

The teacher beckoned us over to him and pulled out a clipboard, “I’m Mr. Kane. I’m a history teacher. Who are you three?”

“Armin Arlert,” he pointed to himself, “Eren Yӓger, and Mikasa Ackerman,” he pointed to us in turn.

“Wonderful,” Mr. Kane said, “Eren and Armin, you’re with me. The classroom is right across the hall, room 103. I can lead you there. Mikasa…” he paused to shuffle through the papers, “you’re with my sister, Mrs. Allah-Stone in room 145, that’s in the blue wing. Take a left here, then a right at the gym and the class is on the right.”

“Catch you on the flip side,” Armin said to Mikasa.

“Lemme know if you find anyone, okay?” she said, waving to us.

“Will do,” I promised.

Mikasa turned away from us and started walking down the hall.

“You said you were a history teacher,” Armin asked Mr. Kane.

“Yes, I teach all the advanced history courses here,” the teacher responded, “I can answer questions later once the whole class is together. That way I’m not repeating myself.”

“That makes sense,” I said, fiddling with the straps of my backpack. 

We reached his classroom in only a short few seconds more, and Mr. Kane set his clipboard down on the desk at the front of the room. Per usual, Armin and I scanned the classroom to find a familiar face, but it wasn’t like we had to look because right in the center of the room making a ruckus was none other than Horseface.

“That’s…” I paused.

“Jean,” Armin whispered, his eyes forming small droplets of water. 

He turned his head, some magical animal hearing enabled him to hear Armin over the ruckus of the room. Jean squinted his eyes, then shook his head in disbelief. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it. He blinked, twice, then turned back to the people he was talking to.

“What was that about?” I asked, knowing that Armin knew Jean better than I ever did.

“I have no idea, but I’m willing to bet he doesn’t fully remember.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“He looked like he recognized us for a moment, but then didn’t. I don’t know. Maybe he doesn’t remember everything, and he thinks it’s just some bad dreams.”

“We should tell Mikasa,” I said, grabbing my phone from my pocket.

. . . . . 

“I swear, this is going to sound crazy,” Jean said a few days later during lunch. 

Mikasa, Armin, and I were all seated at a table near the corner of the cafeteria.

“Let’s hear it,” Mikasa said, raising her eyebrows.

“I… Fuck. This is going to sound like a pick-up line, but it’s not. You’re from my dreams.”

“That’s a really shitty pick-up line, Horseface,” I informed him.

“It’s not- wait. That’s what you call me in my dreams too. This is all so weird, and my head hurts. I mean, ever since I was little I’ve had these dreams about this crazy world with monsters in it, and you three were there along with some other people. I’ve known your names since I was a kid, but I only just met you now,” Jean explained.

Mikasa and I looked at Armin. If anyone was going to get through to him, it was going to be Armin.

“Jean,” Armin started, “the town that you grew up in, in the dreams, it was called Trost.”

Jean sat at the table, surprised at what Armin said.

“And you joined the military. You wanted to be a member of the Military police because you made it into the top ten, but then…” Armin hesitated, “something happened, so you joined the scouting legion.”

“How do you know all that?” Jean asked us.

“Because it’s real,” I said, “it all happened thousands of years ago.”

“But why do I remember it?” 

“We don’t know,” Mikasa said, “we don’t know why we remember and why some people don’t. Eren and Armin were born with complete memories of everything that happened, and I remember most of the events up until a certain point, then nothing. I got my memories back when I was seven. We don’t know how this works or why.”

“I only get little snippets here and there, is there a way for me to remember more?” Jean asked.

“Yes, and no,” Armin said, “as Mika said, we don’t really know how this works, but we have a… how would you call it, database of everything we remember from back then. It turns out that there’s basically no knowledge of what people call the Titan Wars these days, so we hid the knowledge in plain sight.”

“Where?” 

“On the internet. We wrote everything in Eldian.”

“I don’t know how to read or write that,” Jean said.

“I can teach you,” Armin glowed at Jean.

»You’re playing a dangerous game, Ar,« I said.

Jean looked at me in confusion.

»I know what I’m doing,« Armin responded.

»I don’t want you to get hurt. I know how you feel, and what happens if we find Marco?« I asked Armin.

“Is that Eldian?” Jean asked, “some of the words make sense, I don’t know how.”

“Yeah,” Armin said, “it’ll make sense soon enough. It’s a pretty simple language. Much easier to learn than English.”

. . . . . 

Because Jean was in our homeroom, we shared study blocks with him. During these blocks, Armin would teach Jean Eldian, and I would draw scenes from the past, and Levi. Mostly Levi. Months had passed, and Jean had either remembered or learned most of what he’d forgotten.

I was drawing one night when Levi took me on a date. It was hard for the two of us to escape the compound without drawing attention, but Levi had managed to convince Erwin that we were going to a lake to teach me how to swim, on the off chance that I’d be thrown into a river and drown. It was a shitty excuse, but we had the entire day to ourselves, and we stayed the night on the sandy bank. When it got darker out, fireflies filled the skies and landed on us. Little golden lights were sprinkled on Levi’s hair, and at one point a bug landed on Levi’s nose. His eyes had widened in disbelief, and his mouth formed an ‘o’. I was drawing that exact moment on the riverbank.

“Why do you draw him so much?” Jean asked me, leaning over my drawing pad.

“It’s none of your business,” I closed the pad and put my pencils away.

“He was such a hard-ass, making us clean everything three times for no reason,” Jean said.

“He had a really good reason for it, Jean,” I answered.

“Like you would know, he was rude to you too.”

I didn’t respond to that. The bell sounded, and we all grabbed our things to leave.

“I bet he and Erwin were fucking,” Jean said, picking up his backpack and slinging it around his shoulder.

“Levi said no to Erwin’s advances,” I said, “he realized that Erwin was manipulating him for years, and wanted nothing to do with him.”

“How would you know that?” 

“We were close,” I said.

“What? You and the Corporal?” 

“Yes, he means a lot to me.”

“He was an asshole. He hated everyone. He killed titans, but he also killed moral and our spirits. Erwin should’ve left him in the underground where he found him.”

I threw my bag onto the ground. 

“That was the last straw, hay-boy,” I taunted. 

“What is it now, you suicidal bastard? Did you actually care for the shorty? He was rude and scary,” Jean answered, setting his bag down. 

“He was kind and saved all of our lives dozens of times!«

“Eren,” Armin ran up to us from across the hall and warned me, “You’re slipping into Ɇ.”

“Fuck, thanks Ar,” I responded. 

“He had to save your sorry ass a lot more than mine. The only reason you were on his squad was favoritism and your Titan ability.”

“Guys, we shouldn’t talk about this here,” Armin interjected. 

“That’s not true,” I stomped closer to Jean. 

“You were useless in the end anyways. Crying over your beloved Corporal. He got what was coming for him for being so rude and pushy.”

I grabbed Jeans shirt by the collar and shoved his body against the locker, “You take that back, Damnit!” I shouted at him.

“Why? Because of your crush on a man twice your age? You turned Mikasa down in this life because of your crush on old grump who you don’t know and might not even remember you and you expect me to be okay with this?” Jean grabbed my arms and pulled me off of himself. 

»You asshole,« I curled my hand into a fist and slugged him across the face. 

»Grave robber!« He returned my punch in kind. 

»Dunderhead!« I grabbed his shoulder and kneed him in the stomach. He doubled over and barreled into me, making me lose my balance and fall. 

»Where’d you learn that one? From gramps in bed?« He stood and kicked my shins. 

»Where’d you get that face, Seabiscut? From the stable?« I rolled away from his feet and back onto mine. 

»It’s been two thousand years, you can’t come up with any more creative insults?« He moved to punch me, but I sidestepped and kicked his leg while simultaneously grabbing his arm and flipping him in the air.

»It’s been two thousand years, can’t you get better at fighting?« I asked him smugly, acknowledging my victory, “don’t ever insult the Corporal again.” 

“What in heaven's name do you think you’re doing, boys?” Mr. Kane came running towards us in the hall. 

“Umm, fighting,” Jean answered, moving to stand from the ground. 

“Jean, are you okay? We should get you to the nurse's office, that bruise looks nasty,” Mr. Kane asked, extending an arm to help him up.

“I’m okay, Eren was holding back, and this isn’t that bad,” he answered.

“Well, now that we know everyone is okay can we go to class now?” I asked Mr. Kane cheerily. 

“What? No, you’re going to the principal's office to explain to him why you were fighting.”

. . . . . 

The walk to the principal’s office was unpleasant, to say the least. Mr. Kane didn’t trust us not to run off again, so he held us each by an ear as he escorted us down the hall. We were currently sitting in front of the office with a secretary, or vice principal, or whatever her job was. It seemed like she was mostly there for decoration, and to answer phone calls. 

“What do we tell them when they ask why we were fighting?” I asked Jean.

“Nothing. They know nothing, and we won’t tell them anything about it, agreed?”

“Agreed.”

Jean and I had a strange friendship. We trusted and respected each other more than most people ever would, and we liked to settle our disagreements with our fists. We never held grudges against the other for bruises or broken bones, but teachers didn’t understand we were only play-fighting.

The door opened, and Mr. Kane came out of the room, “The principal is ready to see you two now,” he told us. 

I glanced at Pony-boy and we entered his office. It was pretty much what I’d expect for a middle school principal's office. There was an Ikea desk and chairs, and a few books and photographs of presumably his family on the bookshelves. At least I hoped it was his family, it would be pretty weird if the principal had framed photographs of strangers in his office. 

“Please sit,” he gestured to the chairs in front of his desk. 

I plopped into my chair. 

“I’d like you two to tell me what happened earlier today in the hallway,” he said.

Jean and I looked at each other, and then back at the principal, saying nothing. Jean scratched the back of his head while I picked at my fingers. 

“I understand that you got into a physical fight. What was it about?” He asked.

Neither Jean nor I said anything. 

“Could it have something to do with the Corporal?” The principal asked. 

My head shot up at those words. Jean glanced at me nervously.

“So it does, who is this Corporal?”

“Nobody,” I answered quickly. 

Jean looked at me with warning in his eyes. I could almost hear him telling me off, ‘don’t say anything, Yӓger’. 

“If it was nobody, why did you react to that name?” the principal asked. Maria, was he an FBI interrogator in a past life?

Neither of us said anything. 

“I can’t help you if you don’t help me. If you don’t tell me what happened, I have to assume the worst and give you each a five-day suspension.” 

I looked at Jean and saw him curl the second finger of his left hand inward. I made a small nod in acknowledgment. It was one of the hand signals that we used in the Corps. The ‘go-ahead’ motion. The second finger because that was the one that activated the gas in our 3DMG. Our memories from the past made us good at reading each other, and paired with Armin we were almost undefeatable in gym due to our non-verbal communication. 

“We’re okay with that,” I said as Jean said:

“Okay.” 

. . . . . 

“You’re suspended for five days?” my mom shouted in a shrill tone.

“Yes,” I answered. I didn’t understand why she asked for clarification, I had just told her that. She wasn’t hard of hearing yet.

“For getting into a fistfight?” 

“Yes.” Again, this was not new information, “five days because it wasn’t our first fight. Jean and I had fought with each other the week before. That’s when I had the detention.”

“Did you win?” my dad let the newspaper he was reading droop lower onto the table.

“Yeah. Jean made a wide punch, so I flipped him.”

My dad whistled. 

“Charles,” my mom scolded, “we shouldn’t be encouraging this kind of behavior.”

“They’re boys, let them fight if they want.”

“He got suspended,” my mom reminded him. 

“But he won the fight,” my dad argued. 

“I’m going to start on my homework, if that’s okay with you two,” I informed my parents.

. . . . . 

Jean was determined to win a fight against me one of these days. We’d learned our lesson and no longer had physical fights at school (for the most part), so we agreed to brawl at the park after school whenever we were itching for a punch. It was kinda like our own fight club. Mikasa would sometimes join in, and Armin was there to keep an eye on us. 

Sometimes we would go to the part just to hang out. Today was one of those lazy spring days where none of us wanted to do our schoolwork, but none of us wanted to fight either. 

“Eren, let’s have a go,” Jean asked me after putting his phone down. I stand corrected. Jean wanted to fight. 

“Later, I want to finish this drawing first.” I was drawing Levi, no surprise there. I had an entire notebook dedicated to drawing everything about him. No, it’s not creepy- he’s my muse. It’s a cute and romantic visual diary of poses and faces he makes. 

“You have too many drawings of the Corporal, Eren. You can finish it later,” Jean said.

“I can never have too many drawings of him.”

“Fine, then in the name of the Eldian Empire, I challenge you to a duel!” He shifted his body sideways and pointed at me.

“What the actual fuck, Jean?” 

“Come on, one fight.”

“Okay, one fight. It’s gonna be real quick.”

“That’s okay, I learned a new trick and I want to try it out,” Jean explained. 

“Let’s see it,” I said, standing up and walking to the grassy area of the park. 

“Give me your best shot, Horse Face!”

He ran up to me and raised his fist to punch me, and when I moved to dodge it, he feigned out and moved behind me to grab my shirt and put me in a headlock. I ducked, but he grabbed my arms and held my back against his chest. 

I was locked in his grip, but I saw my chance to escape, so I moaned in his ear, “Harder Daddy, you know I like it rough,”

He instantly let me go and pushed me away. His face was bright red and he shouted, “What the actual fuck Yӓger? What was that?”

I doubled over laughing. “That was so funny,” I caught my breath, “You should’ve seen your face.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because it was really funny. Levi taught me that one.” 

“I didn’t realize he had a sense of humor other than shit jokes.”

“You never bothered to get to know him like I did.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably going to be updated slightly randomly. I'm focusing on my other story, 'A Modern Retelling...', which is going to take priority over this mess of a plot. 
> 
> I'd love to know what you think of this, please comment and tell me. 
> 
> P.S. all of the names of people that aren't from the manga are from the same fictional universe, kudos to those who guess it correctly.


End file.
